The city of Jalapa, in Mexico, is very beautifully situated at the
foot of Macultepec, at an elevation of 4335 feet above the level of
the sea; but as this is about the height which the strata of clouds
reach, when suspended over the ocean, they come in contact with the
ridge of the Cordillera Mountains; this renders the atmosphere
exceedingly humid and disagreeable, particularly in north-easterly
winds. In summer, however, the mists disappear; the climate is
perfectly delightful, as the extremes of heat and cold are never
experienced.

On a bright sunny day, the scenery round Jalapa is not to be
surpassed. Mountains bound the horizon, except on one side, where a
distant view of the sea adds to the beauty of the scene. Orizaba,
with its snow-capped peak, appears so close, that one imagines that
it is within a few hours' reach, and rich evergreen forests
clothe the surrounding hills. In the foreground are beautiful
gardens, with fruits of every clime—the banana and fig, the
orange, cherry, and apple. The town is irregularly built, but very
picturesque; the houses are in the style of the old houses of Spain,
with windows down to the ground, and barred, in which sit the
Jalapenas ladies, with their fair complexions and black eyes.

Near Jalapa are two or three cotton factories, under the
management of English and Americans: the girls employed are all
Indians, healthy and good-looking; they are very apt in learning
their work, and soon comprehend the various uses of the machinery. In
the town there is but little to interest the stranger, but the church
is said to have been founded by Cortez, and there is also a
Franciscan convent. The vicinity of Jalapa, although poorly
cultivated, produces maize, wheat, grapes, and jalap, from which
plant the well-known medicine is prepared, and the town takes its
name. A little lower down the Cordillera grows the vanilla, the bean
of which is so highly esteemed for its aromatic flavour.

The road from Jalapa to the city of Mexico constantly ascends, and
the scenery is mountainous and grand; the villages are but few, and
fifteen or twenty miles apart, with a very scanty population. No
signs of cultivation are to be seen, except little patches of maize
and chilé, in the midst of which is sometimes to be seen an
Indian hut formed of reeds and flags. The mode of travelling in this
country is by diligences, but these are continually attacked and
robbed; and so much is this a matter of course, that the Mexicans
invariably calculate a certain sum for the expenses of the road,
including the usual fee for the banditti. Baggage is sent by the
muleteers, by which means it is ensured from all danger, although a
long time on the road. The Mexicans never think of resisting these
robbers, and a coach-load of eight or nine is often stopped and
plundered by one man. The foreigners do not take matters so quietly,
and there is scarcely an English or American traveller in the country
who has not come to blows in a personal encounter with the banditti
at some period or other of his adventures.